The Tide

The tide is ever changing
the water ebbs and flows
in steady pulsing rhythm
the water comes and goes

Morning sees the sandbanks
exposed beneath the sky
The waters have receded
to leave the shoreline dry

Wading birds come searching
for buried worms and shells
Beneath the mangrove’s spreading roots
is where the mud crab dwells

Skippers from their burrows
come out to sieve the mud
and fiddler crabs are waving
their claws as red as blood

The sun now bakes the burning sand
above low water mark
and driftwood lying on the beach
is shedding strips of bark

It seems without a warning
the waters start to turn
and soon the sand that lies so still
beneath the waves will churn

The sandbank’s wet with water
as the waves begin to rise
The crabs now rush to bury in
exposing just their eyes

Shoals of fish come searching
for creatures that have died
stranded on the sandbanks
the victims of the tide

The tide is ever changing
but always stays the same
the pull between the land and sea
in nature’s endless game

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